


Shattered Barriers

by Mietta



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mietta/pseuds/Mietta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot Lizzington, set someplace in the future. She finally comes to terms with her feelings for him. Originally planned this to be more than just a one-shot, but I don't have an idea where to take it from here so I'm just going to leave it as is for now. Hope it's a good read nonetheless!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Barriers

**Author's Note:**

> Fully disclaimed. I love these two, and want them to be on solid ground with each other. It's a lot of fun to get into Liz's head and figure out what she's thinking. The hotel room is based off of what I observed in the show, however briefly. Hope I did it justice. A certain shape-shifting and disappearing character that we all know and love makes an appearance as well (as he should!).

The neon sign that flickered on occasion with MOTEL scrawled in what someone had perceived to be fancy writing greeted her as she pulled into the parking lot. Home once again after a long day. Well, what served for home right now, at least. She had a hard time calling it that. It was really just a rented room with basic amenities, with the added bonus of not having to clean.

 _I suppose that's one good thing about this place_ , she thought to herself as she climbed out of her car. She swung her bag over her shoulder and dug into her coat pocket, looking for the card key. The nights were still fairly cold even though it was now spring, and her breath fogged in the cold air.  _It needs to be warm already. I'm tired of this cold weather._  Everyone was getting restless and grouchy, even the ever-bubbly Aram. The first day it had been above freezing, he'd taken it upon himself to start cleaning everyone's offices, declaring it necessary since things were warming up. The warm spell hadn't lasted long, but it had made him and everyone else feel a little better.

Freezing while out on cases was getting old, and she hoped that the weather would turn before too long. Going stir-crazy was a distinct possibility. Finding the key, she slid it into the slot on the door as she opened it and nearly had a heart attack when she was greeted with the glow of the lamp in the corner, a familiar figure sitting comfortably in the chair beside it.

"What the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? How did you even get in here?" She felt breathless as she tried to still her pounding heart, and struggled to keep her breathing even. No way was she going to let him know how on edge she was, and how much he had truly scared her.

Raymond Reddington smiled knowingly and waved her questions off, seeming unconcerned.

"I happen to be good friends with the man at the desk, and he happily let me in when I explained to him who I was. As for the heart attack, I apologize." His smile faded a bit as he studied her, true concern starting to show.

"It's fine, really. My heart is used to such abuse," she quipped, and he frowned in thought. Yes, let him think about what that meant. It was her turn to be cryptic for once. She turned to take off her coat and put her bag down and allowed herself a smug smile. It felt good to give him a taste of his own medicine. Turning back around, she put her hands on her hips and gave him a pointed look. "Well?"

He uncrossed his legs and stood, gesturing around the room as he stepped closer. His eyes took in the bare-bones furnishing with barely-masked disapproval. The bed was plain and typical for a motel, the dresser well-worn and old, the chair and the lamp in the corner simple. The mirrors on the closet doors were clear and clean, and the bathroom was tiny but serviceable. No personal touches, nothing to make it appear that it was anything other than a temporary abode.

It was perfectly ordinary, perfectly normal…on  _purpose_.

"I came to see your…living arrangements. To see if you needed anything to make you more comfortable."

She was unconvinced. "You've been here before. You know what it looks like. I doubt you came all the way here to see something that you know hasn't changed," she pointed out, and he chuckled.

"Always the ever-observant profiler. That's something I love about you, Lizzie; you never miss a thing," he said with a smile, and shook his head in wonder.

What was he getting at? Was he… _teasing_  her? Mocking her ability to correctly guess his ulterior motives? He was so damn frustrating. She wouldn't have to guess at these things if he would just tell her instead of giving her half-truths and speaking in anecdotes. Her profiler skills only took her so far, even if she had been at the top of her class when she graduated.

"But you're right; I'm not really here for that," he said more seriously, and with a sigh he sat on the end of her bed and patted the spot beside him. Hesitantly, she took the few steps needed to reach him, and bit her lip as she debated on whether or not she could trust herself to sit beside him. Whenever they were close, the space between them was always intimate, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that yet. She liked it…craved it, even. To be close to someone and give herself over to her feelings was something she missed. But after Tom and all of her confused feelings surrounding Reddington, she just wasn't sure what to do anymore, how to feel. To give over to her desire or hold back and protect herself? If she gave in, she forfeited control. Yet if she didn't, the unhappiness that pervaded her soul was almost tangible.

He patted again, more insistent, and with a sigh she sat down. She could sit down next to him and not relinquish control. It was possible. At least, that's what she told herself.

"You're not happy here," he said quietly, and looked at her sadly, searching her face.

She met his eyes, not knowing how to respond. Of course she wasn't happy here, but did she really have another choice? She didn't regret selling the apartment, but it left her with no other option than the motel. Not that she wanted to admit to him how much she had wanted to accept it. At the time, she wasn't ready to accept any form of gift. He wouldn't buy her forgiveness, no matter how hard he tried. The betrayal she had felt after the memory retrieval had hurt her like a kick in the gut. To think that his care had been all about an  _object_ …it was painful to think about.

But slowly, as time passed and she realized that he was still around despite having finally handed it over, she realized that perhaps it wasn't all about the Fulcrum after all. Maybe he really did care, and it wasn't all just a game, a manipulation to get what he wanted. She now found herself feeling like she could accept it, if it wasn't gone. If only he had waited a while longer to give it to her, maybe things would be different. As it stood now, however, this was the only place she had, happy or no.

"No," she admitted carefully, "but for right now, it's fine. It's a space to call my own, and that's all I need at the moment."

"All you need…that may be so, Lizzie, but what do you  _want_?" he asked in earnest, and her heart skipped a beat as she heard those words once again. The last time she'd heard them, it'd been in a rather suggestive dream.

"What do I want? I want a lot of things, Red," she told him simply.  _One of which includes you leaving,_  she thought, but she couldn't bring herself to say that. It was rather harsh, and she was tired of being at odds with him. She had liked the ease between them of late, and she didn't want to ruin that. For right now, they were at a fairly good place in the ever-fluctuating nature of their relationship and it was nice. She didn't want the emptiness that she felt whenever she was alone to return just yet, either. Even if she hated admitting that to herself, it was the truth.

"We all want a lot of things. Some things we can't ever have, while other things we get eventually if we work for them. Then there are things that can be had from the generosity of others, particularly those with money and a certain desire to see those they love happy. I love you, Lizzie, and your happiness is of great importance to me. If you aren't happy, then tell me, and if it's within my power you shall have whatever you need to be so," he said, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke.

Whatever she needed? She knew what she needed. She needed stability in her life, among other things. He had ripped any normality away from her when he had surrendered all those months ago. Looking back on it now, she didn't necessarily wish she had gone on living a lie, no matter how wonderful it had been. To her, the truth was more important. But it had hurt, and she couldn't help the wave of nostalgia that washed over her. The thought of what her life could have been, what it was before he had come…it was hard not to want it back. Perhaps such feelings were wrong and a sign of weakness, but they were there nonetheless. It was hard to go on living after all that had happened.

Yet, she had done it. It was hard, yes, but slowly she was adjusting and starting to accept her life now. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that although he had brought such pain…he had been there through all of it. He had never left, even when she kept pushing him away. No matter what she did to him, what she threw at him, he never ceased to stay by her side and continue to care. She doubted that he would have showed so much concern for her welfare beyond keeping her alive if it had really all been about the Fulcrum.

Then there was that bit about "love" that had slipped out just now.

 _Love_.

He had shattered whatever barriers remained between them with that one little word. There were still truths she needed to have, things she had yet to discover…but like he had said a long time ago, it would come. She had to trust that she would know in time, and that it would come at the right moment for her to accept it. Love was what spurred his actions, both his careful watch over her wellbeing and keeping things from her. He had once said that knowing certain truths would put her in grave danger, and she had pushed it off as him using an excuse not to tell her anything. But his declaration had proved beyond a doubt that she was the one person that was most important to him in the world, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Even if that meant hiding things from her, he would do it. She knew what it was like to be terrified of losing the person you loved, and she knew that when it came down to it, she would do the same. In this, they were of the same mind.

Yes, she needed many things…but right now, she realized the thing she needed most was  _him._

She felt tears welling in her eyes, and with a smile and without a second thought, she let herself go and rested her head on his shoulder. He hesitated only a second before his arms wrapped around her, and she felt the pressure of his lips against her hair as he kissed her head. After a moment he rested his head on top of her own, and for a while they just sat there in silence, enjoying each other's presence.

Letting go was hard and she didn't know what the consequences would be, but right then she felt as if it was worth it. He was here, he had always been here, and he wouldn't leave her. He would care for her, protect her, and love her. Of this she was now certain, and she felt the ache that always seemed to be in her chest release a little. She wasn't sure what to make of all of her feelings when it came to him, but she knew enough to know that he wasn't the only one who cared in this relationship. She did, too. And for right now, it was enough to let her accept the comfort and happiness he brought her.

For the first time in a long while, her mind stilled and she felt her body relax into the warmth of his embrace. Funny how a single touch could affect one so physically. It was a powerful thing, and she found herself craving the way it made her feel. If she could just sit here like this for an indefinite amount of time, she would. But she couldn't do that. She needed to sleep, and most of all she needed to think. A lot of thinking, she realized. Perhaps sleep wasn't in the agenda for tonight, and the thought made her sigh tiredly.

Ever so gently, she began to stir and sit up, and his arms fell from around her. She wiped at her eyes and looked up at him, startled to see that her eyes weren't the only ones wet. Raymond Reddington, as close to crying as she had ever seen him, and it was because she had finally let him in. Yes, he was human—damaged, but not beyond repair. Slowly she was starting to realize that his human side existed deep inside, locked away from all except those willing to bring it to the surface.

She turned her gaze away from him, allowing him a short moment of vulnerability without prying eyes. Looking around the room, she realized with a start that something was missing—where was Hudson?

"Red," she said questioningly, "where's Hudson?"'

"Oh…" He sounded highly amused, and she turned to look at him again. Like a light switch, he was back to his normal self. The "normal" that he presented, anyway. "I had Dembe take him out for a walk. Poor guy was practically dancing on the spot. He clearly had business to attend to, and to be completely honest he looked like he was due some attention. There are times I think you forget you have a dog, Lizzie," he said with a sigh, and pushed himself off of the bed.

The thought of big, bad-ass Dembe walking a scruffy mutt down the street, blue leash in hand, complete with a little poo-bag tote attached, was almost too much for her to handle. She laughed and rolled her eyes, and Red looked at her in amusement.

"I doubt this is a laughing matter, my dear. He—"

"No, no, I'm not laughing about that. You're right, he puts up with a lot from me. Maybe Aram could take him for a while," she proposed, and decided that she would talk to him about it tomorrow. No doubt they would both enjoy themselves.

"Ah yes, Agent Mojtabai would get along swimmingly with him, I suspect. What a grand idea," he agreed, and went over to retrieve his hat and suit jacket, which were folded and stacked neatly beside the chair. She belatedly noticed that his ensemble was pale gray, which suited him and made him look younger. Not that she was paying any attention. Nor was she paying any attention to the fact that the blue of his tie was the same shade as her eyes.

A knock at the door drew her attention away, and she opened it to find Dembe and a very happy Hudson standing outside.

"Dembe! Perfect timing, as usual. Give our friend Hudson back to his mistress so we can be on our way. I believe there's a glass of scotch with my name on it, and I plan to take full advantage of it." He finished buttoning his jacket and palmed his hat on his head, giving Hudson a pat on the head as he trotted in and went to Liz, leash trailing.

"One minute," she said, stopping him in his tracks as he went for the door. On impulse she went to her dresser and opened the top drawer and dug around in her clothes until she found what she was looking for. She handed it to him, and he gave her a look of surprise as he flipped the object in his hand, fascinated by it.

"So that next time, you won't scare the poor man at the desk when you decide to show up unannounced," she explained, and he chuckled.

"Why Lizzie, I don't scare people; I merely convince them that my words are not arbitrary." And with that, he swept out the door, leaving her alone once again.

She smiled after him and listened as the motor of his car purred to life, and the lights swept over the window before darkness flooded the parking lot again. A choice had been made tonight; one that she knew would eat away at her for a long while. Two choices, if she counted the one she had just made. Who knew that something so simple could have so much meaning? It did to her, and she knew it had meant something to him, too. She had given him a little piece of herself, one of the only things in her possession that opened more than one door.

A card key.


End file.
